border ME & THE DEVIL ♥︎ SKYCLANNER

[DOEBLAZE]

Shame begins to lick at her ears once she clears the first branches of the pines, tongues of muted fire that bite at her chest and sting her eyes. Shame—guilt—embarassment—regret—all of them paying back whatever damage she'd done in tenfold, each tension - wrought step pulsing up through her chest with a dull ache like paws on dead flesh. She had lost her temper, and gravely so.

Her loping strides are swift and clumsy, aiming to reach the river's cool water without paying much mind to the scratched - up branches she leaves in her wake, gathering the trembling - taut thread of her composure tight in her paws and holding it fast. Tension still winds tight in every compact line of her body, nerves bundling tightly between her knotted shoulders and in the creased furrow of her muzzle, the narrowed slits of her eyes—the heat of a live wire still burrows through her veins, leaving her crescent - curved claws, still unsheathed, aching to sink into something.

They only find a home in the bark beneath her paws. She exiles herself, if only temporarily, a familiar ritual, afraid of what the firebrands of her claws might do—fearful of scorching herself, her children, her Clanmates, even those she cannot bear to like. For the shame and the guilt and the regret bear a bitter companion on their tongue—fear, fear of what she might do, what she might say, when red clots the corners of her vision and her visage transforms itself into that of a wolf, of curled lips and bared fangs and spiked fur.

Her fur has mostly settled by the time she reaches RiverClan's border and drops from her tree, her fangs re - hidden behind rumpled white muzzle, her tail finally stilled—but she cannot fully disguise the gnarled pull the her tabby - washed bridge of her nose, nor the trembling of her powerful limbs, the way each paw slams into the sandy earth beneath it like a conquest. Anger beats tightly in the high curve of her neck, the neat squaring of her jaw, cramming in alongside stress in a jostling of warm bodies. Nor can she hide from herself the shame that writhes serpentine in her gut at the momentary lack of full control, the way her temper had strained against its leash, threadbare and ever - tightening and speckled with a hound's foam.

Doeblaze settles defeatedly to earth, and it is only when her dipped forelimb stings and stains the water crimson that she notices the shallow wound carved there—whether it was dealt by her own claws or an errant thorn - lined branch, she cannot say, so lost had she been in a scarlet haze. The sigh she heaves is hoarse and bearing the weight of the world in its weariness, perched lonely on the border as she delicately rinses her wound, dips her muzzle to drink, as if she might ever cleanse the bitterness from her lips.

OOC : Open to RiverClanners, but also to any SkyClanners who might've followed her or been in the area!

♥︎

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[Batscreech]

Bat had not fallen too far behind in his attempt to trail the one-eyed she-cat from camp. She was no longer within his sights, sure, however her scent was strong- the expected smell of woodland pine and sap mingling with that of soured rage. With jaws slightly agape, he pressed onwards, at some point following the crushed and battered foliage as opposed to whatever lingered in the air- she was in a hurry.

He picked up the pace so that he was trotting with soundless steps- he never had much to show for physicality- his tiny, hollowed frame made for near soundless means of travel. He was surprised at how far she had travelled, it was clear to him that she was doing everything in her power to escape- removing herself in a final act of desperation- an act caused by what he could only assume to be self preservation, or perhaps less selfishly, the preservation of her peers. The latter made his nose scrunch with displeasure for a moment, selflessness was something he had yet to understand.

The roar of rushing water met his ears before the river came into view, prompting him to slow and then stall entirely. His pine green optics shifting left and right in an attempt to detect any visual indication of the individual that he found himself hunting down. For reasons unknown- though probably due to his previous lifestyle and the unfamiliarity of the way this new world worked- he didn't think to look overhead, the sudden rustling and gentle thump of paws hitting solid earth somewhere ahead of him causing him to jump. His claws unsheathed and his yellow-stained teeth bared- a stark abyss where one of his fangs should have been revealing itself to the world where nobody was watching him.

It was her, he realized, and as the adrenaline began to dissipate from his taught muscles, he cautiously made his way forward. He did not make any extra effort to conceal his presence- should the wind carry his scent to her and alert her of his position, he didn't find any reason to care- his intention was not to stalk her in secrecy. In the meantime, he observed- the way she stared down into the briny depths and careened her head downwards carried an air of melancholy- the weight of it crushing her entirely as she seemed to fold in on herself.

Bat stopped just a small ways behind her, surprised to find that for the first time since he had taken up with this strange group of cats, he felt a stirring within the very farthest area of his chest- Her outburst in camp, the way she ran and attempted to hide away, her body which seemed so weak when placed against her own demeanor- he saw himself in her. Their pasts were undoubtedly different in ways that couldn't even compare, and yet he too found himself trying to run- from himself, from those around him, from his emotions which were so violent and unexpected that it took a miracle beyond himself to stifle it. She had already proven herself to be beyond him, stronger than him- for she could bite her tongue in the face of those who spat their venom, the acid burning the places inside that were the most tender- Bat could only ever dream of having such profound, perhaps dangerous amounts of self control.

He finally approached her then- softly, soundlessly, wordlessly. Truthfully, he had no idea what to say. In moments like these, he knew words were a waste- inconsolable, and yet there remained an emptiness that begged to be filled- something he was sure that nobody on god's green earth could provide for her. And so, he did the only thing he could think to do in his inexperience- providing a soft clearing of his throat to alert her of his presence, in case she had not picked up on it already- and sat near her, his distance a respectful one. His gaze was no longer hardened in the way it usually was, his viridescent gaze harboring none of that typical sharpened judgement- every inch of his features were etched with exhaustion, his eyes terribly hollow. It was the closest thing to gentle he could ever physically display.

The silence was awkward- he didn't really know this she-cat. There was no reason for him to have come- he simply wanted to get away, same as her- and as he wracked his brain for a way to get himself out of the situation he had placed himself in, he realized she was tending to an injury that had not been present upon her departure. "Here's hopin' Slate didn't nick ya on yer nip over 'ere." His voice was hoarse in his attempt to speak delicately- he wasn't used to it- and yet he found himself making the attempt, as if saying or doing anything with too much vigor might set her off all over again.​

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OOC: I wrote this at nearly 4 am so if it isn't my best work that'll be the reason </3

 

[LIONPAW]

Much to Lionpaw's horror, the apprentice had watched the whole situation unfold within moments. It had been odd to see the stoic lead warrior worry so much, but his concerns about Orangestar seemed sound. Of course, Lionpaw did not know his father, but he was sure that he would feel worried if the leader had not returned to camp on time as planned. On the other paw, he could also see where Doeblaze was coming from — the outer territories were fraught with danger and risking the lives of more cats is surely not what Orangestar would want. Lionpaw really doesn't know who's truly right in all of this; the logistics of leadership and the complications surrounding such an important role were unknown to the youth.

However, things soured really fast when Slate brought up Blazestar to his mother's face. Lionpaw had stood there speechless, really — discomfort stirred in his gut as both his mother and the lead warrior fired words off at one another. Never had Doeblaze been so furious; this certainly topped the time when Skyclaw had scratched his face. For Slate to use his late father's name in accusation, to make Doeblaze out to be some sort of hypocrite... She was only doing what she thought was best for the clan! Couldn't the stubborn tom cat see that?

Lionpaw could not say he was as angry as Doeblaze, and rightfully so. She had known Blazestar far better than he ever would — far better than most SkyClanners would. He hadn't a memory of his sire to attach himself to. If only Blazestar were still here, able to weigh in on the disagreement and quell his warriors' bickering with wisdom and sagacity.

He watched as his older sister and his other clanmates quickly diffused the argument, lingering behind and observing in utter shock as familiar faces exuded sternness and ferocity. The tension was too much to bear, especially for a young mind like him. Shortly after, Lionpaw followed his mother's scent to the RiverClan border, finding her at the water's edge with the earthy form of Batscreech next to her. Tentative pawsteps slow, words catching in the boy's throat. It occurs to him that he's never actually consoled Doeblaze before... in any shape or form. That is simply not what they did with one another, talking about sensitive matters like this. What does one even say in this situation?

The chocolate torbie point pads up quietly near Doeblaze, though is sure to keep a respectable distance. "It... It ain't right what he said, Ma." Lionpaw begins, hesitating as he is unsure of the right thing to do here. "He shouldn't've brought Pa into it." He gave a shake of his head, stomach still churning uncomfortably as he recalled the lead warrior holding her beloved's memory over her head.

Lionpaw does not move from his place, having avoided eye contact with the lilac tabby until he decides to offer his services, "... Are y'hungry? I could try catchin' you somethin'." He wasn't sure if that would help ease her frustrations; truthfully, he didn't know if he could do anything to make Doeblaze feel better. But he had been working on his hunting skills lately... maybe her son bringing her a catch would bring her the least bit of pride.

𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 ✹ . + 　 　˚ 　　　　 · 　 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐈 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐃

• 

• 

  an apprentice of skyclan, lionpaw is seven moons and is mentored by crowsight. he is the son of doeblaze and blazestar. an amalgamation of his parents, lionpaw exhibits splashes of ginger and chocolate tabby patterns against a thick, longhaired cream pelt.　✦

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[DogTeeth]

𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝒻 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓂𝓈 ♬

hooked claws scrape against wet river stone, webbed blonde toes splayed against the grey island as the current swirls around his twisted fur. Eyes flitting across the distorted grass of the surface, watching for the shadows of fish. Tan ears twitch with the light thud of paws, a distracted shift of his crown he peers from where he sits like a buoy against the rock.

Flashes of movement on the shore, where the pines are jagged teeth against the horizon of the opposite bank. He sees a molly make for the edge of the river’s cut, to say she looked upset would be a drastic understatement but she was a Skyclanner, it should be none of his concern and certainly not his business. Especially as two other Skyclanners join her side, speaking to her.

Curiosity having got the better of him, that and perhaps the decency to make one's presence known. Afterall, they were allies. What if they were in some sort of trouble? He kicks off the stone, slithering through the water like an aquatic serpent. His feet barely brushing the sands, he floats before the trio. Tail swishing and legs paddling to keep him stilled in the current’s tugging urge to carry off. " Skyclan…. " he greets them, worry pinching his brows together.

" is everything… alright? " he adds, muzzle squinched up as he peers at her. Searching for any wounds because he swears he can smell the faint iron of blood in the air but it’s smothered by the waft of pine.

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⛦ OOC INFORMATION REFERENCE ⛦

• —
  
  
• — Dogteeth PINTEREST
  — twenty-eight moons
  — VOICE & ACCENT
  — warrior of Riverclan
  — gay | crushing on n/a
  — small curly-furred blonde and tan tom with blue eyes.
  — very gentle voice and laugh
  — deals a nasty bite | large teeth
  BIOGRAPHY——— ✧
  
• 
  
  

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[lichenstar]

✦˚.✦˚✦˚✦˚ ✧ ˚✦˚✦˚✦.˚✦

CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY ✧

• It's no secret that they hold favor with SkyClan... they are easy-going neighbors that do little to bicker with RiverClan and had many times saved their tails from certain destruction. That had been under Blazestar's rule... but even now, Lichenstar enjoyed the company of Orangestar and did not fear her manner of speaking, nor feel her a looming, greedy threat at her borders. Perhaps it was that they were more worldly, tolerant by nature and exposure to such various walks of life. The only clan to welcome kittypets with open paws....
  
  Dogteeth is easy enough company... a RiverClanner through in through with his love for the waterways and swimming. It is not something his leader loves in equal measure, preferring the way her fur sits when it is not slicked to her sides, without the breeze making the soaking pelt shivering cold even on the hottest summer day. She watches him from the shore with a polite smile, eyes drifting to see if any fish may slither close enough to shore to be caught... but there is a voice tight with distress across the way... and even the pale tom hears it as he wades back into the river to implore them for information.
  
  What could possibly be going on in SkyClan right now that- Oh. She recognizes that one... Hazecloud had introduced them at the last Gathering; Doeblaze... and that younger tom at her side must be one of her sons she mentioned. The pinch of his face says he is bothered about something, pressing up against his mother like they've undergone some hardship...
  
  "Doeblaze- you're bleeding...." The ribbons of her blood twists and ripple in the current and though it isn't much... her arriving here injured at all is worrisome. Should she be fetching Moonbeam right now, instead of prying for what was happening?
• about
  
  speech hex code ✧ #6368A5
  
  ooc notes ✦
  tagging ✶
  penned by tieirlys
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